by Chloe Walsh
“No way. I can’t,” I said, shaking my head in protest before releasing a choked sob. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Damn, you’re as stubborn as he is,” Mase muttered under his breath before climbing to his feet. “Come on. Stand your sexy ass up and I’ll walk you back to your boyfriend.” Turning back to me, he held out a hand and said, “And for future reference, sweetheart? I’m never wrong.”
Rourke
“DON’T FUCKING MOVE, ROURKE!” My father’s voice bellowed down the line so loudly that I had to hold my phone away from my ear. “Brawling at the homecoming dance? Jesus Christ, I thought you were over that stage?”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know my reasons,” I shot back heatedly as I paced the floor of my hotel room. I’d been escorted up to my room ten minutes ago and told I couldn’t leave until my father came and got me in the morning – with a nice juicy payoff.
“I don’t care,” Dad snapped. “Just stay in that room until I get home. I’m leaving now. I’ll be there by morning.”
“I don’t care about me,” I growled, pinching the bridge of my nose. I didn’t care about being in trouble. I cared about Six and the fact that I hadn’t seen her since I was dragged out of the dance by security. The same security that was currently standing guard outside my room, making sure I was a good little minor and stayed in my room. Fucking bullshit. I was losing my goddamn mind worrying about my girlfriend and these pricks wouldn’t let me go downstairs to find her. “I’m worried about Six. I can’t find her.”
“Mercedes?”
“Yes!” I nodded. “Christ, yes. I need to find her.”
There was a long pause before Dad cleared his throat and asked, “Why would you need to find her, Rourke?”
I rolled my eyes and bit back the urge to roar. “Because I have to!” I snapped, mentally adding the word asshole at the end. “Can you call her? She’s not picking up for me. I need to know she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Concern filled my father’s voice. “What’s going on, Rourke?”
“She was with me,” I bit out. “When the fight broke out.” Exhaling a shaky sigh, I rubbed my jaw with my hand and added, “I haven’t seen her since.”
“Oh.” Dad’s tone was light then. “She’s probably just gone home with her date, Rourke.”
“I’m her date, asshole!” I roared, losing the final grasp I had on my temper. “Fuck!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dad growled.
I bit down on my fist instead of throwing my phone. “What the hell do you think I’m talking about?”
“Are you sleeping with your stepsister, Rourke?”
I’m doing more than just sleeping with my stepsister, I was about to say, but paused when the door handle of the room jangled. Seconds later, the door flew open and Six strolled in wearing another guy’s jacket. No, not just another guy, I realized when Mason sauntered into my room.
Oh, hell to the fucking no!
Mercedes
“DAD, I HAVE TO GO,” Rourke growled into his phone before pressing a button on the screen and tossing it down on the bed. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded, stalking towards me. When he reached me, Rourke quickly snatched the jacket I had forgotten was draped over my shoulders and threw it at Mason, who was standing beside me with a shit eating grin on his face. “She doesn’t need your jacket, asshole!”
“Relax, buddy, I didn’t lay a finger on her,” Mason laughed before slipping his jacket back on. “I found her on the beach, all alone and crying her eyes out. I’m just returning what’s yours.”
“Consider her returned,” Rourke snarled. “Now go.”
“Rourke!” I hissed, mortified, but he didn’t look at me. His focus was entirely on Mason who was grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“Told you I’m never wrong,” Mason said with a wink directed at me before turning and heading towards the door.
The moment the door closed, Rourke was on me. “Are you okay?” he demanded, tone thick with concern, as he cupped my face between his hands – his usual move when he was anxious. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about you.”
“Have you?” I replied, not meaning to sound so…catty. But dammit, I felt catty. I felt pretty damn pissed actually.
Rourke raised his brow in surprise and I quickly backed out of his embrace before stepping around him and walking over to the huge king sized bed in the center of the room. “Last I saw, you had your hands full with Britt.” The hidden accusation in my tone was obvious to both of us.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Six?” Rourke tossed back, tone hard, jaw clenched. “Because if you’re accusing me of something, then come right out and say it.”
“Fine!” Sinking down on the bed, I folded my arms across my chest and met his gaze head on. “She was all over you.” My voice sounded weak and shaky and it made me mad. I wanted to sound strong. I need to, dammit. “I asked you not to fight and you did it anyway. And then you let her touch you.”
“Touch me?” Rourke hissed, clearly outraged. “I didn’t let anyone touch me, Six.”
“She was all over you, Rourke.” Now I was shouting, my voice rising to compensate for the tears springing in my eyes. “She went with you when you were escorted out.” Stupid tears dripped down my cheeks. “You didn’t look back at me once! You just left with her.”
My words seemed to cause Rourke to lose whatever shred of self-control he’d been clinging to and he blew up like a firecracker on the fourth of July.
“What the actual fuck!” he roared, furious, as he began to pace the room. “Are you seriously mad at me for hitting that piece of shit?” Swinging around, Rourke glared at me. “He was disrespecting you, Six! Talking shit about you! Making sexual innuendos about my girlfriend!” He shook his head, at a loss. “What the fuck did you think I would do? Shake his hand?”
“I didn’t think you’d leave with her!” I screamed, losing my cool. “But you did, so I guess I’m wrong again.”
“I didn’t fucking leave with her,” he roared louder than I’d ever heard him. “I was removed from the goddamn room, Six. By hotel security. Britt followed me. I didn’t ask her to come. I wanted you!”
“I heard you,” I screamed. “Talking to her! Telling her you still love her.”
His nostrils flared and he shook his head in denial. “I didn’t say that, Six.”
“Yes, you did.” I was crying now; hard, ugly crying and I didn’t give a shit. “The boy in me will always love you.” I mimicked his voice and then released a scream. “I’m in love with you, Rourke. Me!” Hiccupping violently, I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand before sobbing. “You made me love you. The only one I’ve ever given that kind of power to, and it was a goddamn lie because you’ll always love her!”
“No! I don’t love Britt. Not like that.” His jaw ticked when he said, “Not like you. Christ, I love you, Six.”
“Stop.” I shook my head, denying it. “No, you don’t.” This was pity. It wasn’t real.
“I love you,” he snarled. “Goddammit, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Six.”
“Exactly,” I sobbed. “Which means you meant it when you said it tonight – to Britt.”
“You think what I felt for her when I was a child compares to what I feel for you now?” Rourke exclaimed as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Are you fucking insane? I am so in love with you, Six, that I’m practically drowning!”
“Rourke,” I whispered, unsure of what to say. My heart was hammering so hard in my chest, I was afraid I was about to pass out. The emotions coursing through me were overwhelming and Rourke’s declaration was killing me.
When I remained quiet, Rourke continued to speak. “I am trying here, Six,” he declared, tone gruff and hoarse. “To make it up to you. To show you how sorry I am for being an absolute prick when we first met. Fuck, I am trying harder with you than I’ve tried with any
one in my whole damn life.” Releasing a weary sigh, he walked over to where I was sitting and sank down beside me. “You are all I want, Mercedes James.” He shook his head before adding, “There is no one else. I’m not looking. I’m not fucking interested. I only see you. Get that through your stubborn, beautiful fucking head.”
What could I say to that?
What the freaking hell could I say?
Absolutely nothing.
So instead, I broke down and cried.
Immediately, Rourke’s arms came around me and I was in his lap, being held to his chest as he rocked me.
I must have cried for at least ten minutes before whispering, “I’m in love with you, too.”
“I know, Six.” Rourke’s arms tightened around my body and he kissed the top of my head. “I know, baby.”
“And it terrifies me,” I added, my voice a broken sob. “I think I’m losing myself in your world, Rourke, and it scares me half to death.” Sniffling, I buried my face in his chest. “I didn’t want this either, you know. I had a plan for my life. A carefully structured, three-point plan. But you? You complicated my plan. You changed everything.
Rourke took a moment before saying, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is a bad thing,” I admitted, clinging to his body. “Because when you leave, what will I have left? Nothing…”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”
“Oh, I intend on keeping this promise,” he growled. “I’ll be there, Six. I will fucking be there for you.”
“But you’re…” I clenched my eyes shut and forced out the words, “so wary of commitment. And in the beginning, were always talking about us being temporary.” Ugh. I hated that word.
“I was never afraid of commitment, Six. I was afraid of committing to the wrong person.” He sounded so sincere that I tipped my face up to look at him, the urge to see his eyes overwhelming. “I was afraid of committing myself to someone who saw me as disposable,” he added, eyes locked on mine. “She broke me, Six. Left cuts in me so deep I wasn’t sure I would ever fully recover. But I did,” he added with a smile. “And I’m here, fucking crazy in love with you. You asked me once what my endgame was.” Pausing, he added, “I wasn’t ready to answer that question then, but I am now.”
“Rourke–”
“Ask me the question, Six.”
“What’s your endgame, Rourke?”
“You,” Rourke replied without a hint of doubt or hesitation. “You are my endgame, Six.” And then he kissed me. A kiss so deep, so full of love and emotion, that I swear I melted in his arms.
I was his endgame.
And he was mine.
Rourke
I WAS BALLS DEEP inside my girlfriend, taking her rough and hard and exactly how she asked me to take her when she woke me up for morning sex. Six was screaming and clawing at my body as I pumped inside her, and I was loving every one of her hot, little moans and cries.
“Do you want me, Rourke?” Six breathed, spreading herself open and tilting her hips upwards for me to take her deeper.
Was she serious?
Was she honest to god asking me this question?
Goddamn.
“I was afraid before; of you…of the feelings I have for you,” I admitted, not breaking my rhythm. “It scared me. You scare me, but I’m done running from it. I’m done pushing you away because I fucking love you, Six.”
“I love you, too, Rourke,” Six cried out as she trailed her fingers up and down my chest. Her touch was so delicate in that moment, and the loving way she paid attention to my abs made it hard for me to breathe. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of her touch.
She paid so much attention to every detail of my body. Like she was putting it to memory. It made my chest squeeze so damn tight, it was hard to breathe. “I’m keeping you,” my words a promised grunt as her pussy sucked me in tighter. “You’re mine now, Six…”
“Rourke, I’m close,” she cried out, trembling beneath me. “I’m so…”
The door of our hotel room flew open then, a woman’s loud shriek piercing through the air, and we both froze.
“Cassidy?” My father’s voice filled the room. “Don’t panic, darling, but I think we may have a situation here.”
Six looked up at me with wide eyes and mouthed the words “Oh shit!”
Meanwhile, I grimaced and bit back a frustrated groan.
Oh shit was right.
We were so busted.
Mercedes - Four Years Later
“It’s your father,” I called out. “He’s facetiming your computer again.”
I heard the familiar groan come from just inside our ensuite bathroom. “Tell him I’m in class.”
“And leave me to talk to them on my own?” I threw my head back and laughed. “Not a chance.”
“Six,” Rourke called out in a warning tone. “Don’t make me talk to that man.”
“Too late,” I chimed, clicking the accept button Rourke’s MacBook. “Gabe, how are you doing?”
“Oh, Mercedes, it’s you,” Rourke’s father replied.
“It’s me,” I agreed with a nod. “What can I do for you?”
“Is my son there?”
“He sure is,” I chuckled. “Let me just get him for you.” Rolling off the bed, I padded into the adjoining bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. “You can’t hide in here forever you know,” I said with a knowing grin. “If you don’t talk to him, he’ll take a trip out here and you remember what happened last time, don’t you?”
“Don’t remind me,” Rourke muttered sullenly, appearing in the doorway.
I grinned and reminded him anyway. “He brought the girls.”
Like I knew he would, Rourke shuddered at the memory of our twin sisters trashing our tiny one bedroom apartment.
His reaction made me laugh. “And my mom,” I added, barely able to hold back my laughter from the look of sheer panic on Rourke’s face.
“Fine,” he muttered in defeat. “I’ll talk to him.” He lowered his face to mine, pressing his forehead gently to mine. “But only because I love you.”
“Thank you,” I replied with grin. “Now go,” I added, stepping aside to let him pass, and giving his butt a quick slap on the way.
Rourke wandered over to our bed, looking ruffled and annoyed at the prospect of having a chat with his father while I slipped into the kitchen to give them some privacy.
Rourke and Gabe’s relationship was still strained, although it had improved a lot since we left Ocean Bay after high school. They spoke on a monthly basis, unlike Mom and I who texted each other almost every day, and we had gone home to Ocean Bay for the holidays every year for the past four. Rourke and I were both in our final semester at MIT and on the verge of graduating with honors.
Instead of moving into the dorms like our friends had when we first arrived for college freshman year, Rourke had rented a small apartment close to campus, and after six months of dorm life, specifically communal showers, he had persuaded me to move in with him.
Three and a half years, a million arguments, one drunken marriage proposal followed by one sober marriage proposal, and one shotgun wedding in Vegas later, Rourke and I were still together. Rourke still called me Six and I, in turn, referred to him as Prick – when he deserved it, of course. He was still the best friend I’d ever had, and the love I’d once felt for him only seemed to grow. He also let me read his elusive notebook. I had cried like a baby the first time I read it, and if I’m being honest, every time since. The love Rourke’s mother had for him was beautiful and I was so glad he had that piece of her with him, though he rarely opened it anymore.
“I can’t believe you snookered me into facetiming them,” Rourke growled then, stalking into the kitchen with a weary expression etched on his face.
“I can’t believe I had to snooker you into facetiming them,” I shot back, allowing him to pull me into his arms. “Gabe’s yo
ur father. And the twins are our little sisters. You have to like them.” Sure, our preschool aged twin sisters were a handful, but so was he, dammit.
“And I do,” Rourke offered with a smirk. “From a distance. You know, the kind of distance where I send them a check on their birthdays and Christmas?”
“I can’t believe you don’t like them,” I scolded. “They’re just children, Rourke.”
“I’ll like our children,” he offered, tone suddenly gruff, as he placed his hand over my swollen bump.
I was six months pregnant and expecting our first baby in the summer. We found out last week that we were having a girl and had instantly settled on a name; Camille, in memory of Rourke’s mother.
“And you?” Rourke whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I really fucking like you, Six.”
The End
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